


Like Kisses on the Necks of Best Friends

by piginawig



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: First Kisses, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 15:57:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13321563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piginawig/pseuds/piginawig
Summary: He’d wanted to kiss Richie for ages, and suddenly, on their walk home from school Richie just fuckin’… plants one on him, blushes beet red, uses a Voice to say “Good on ya, mate,” which didn’t even make fucking sense, and then takes off running in the opposite direction. Eddie had stood there, gaping, until Richie was an entire block away.Or, Eddie has to sit on Richie's lap for a car ride two days after Richie kissed him and ran away. It's totally not awkward at all.





	Like Kisses on the Necks of Best Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a Tumblr prompt: "kisses where one person is sitting in the other's lap". This was supposed to be a drabble but I'm incapable of writing things under a thousand words.

“This is absolutely fucking ridiculous,” Eddie stated, arms crossed. Richie was grinning widely at him from inside the car. “No. I’m not doing it.”

“Eds, forty-five minutes in my lap is not going to kill you,” Richie said, rolling his eyes.

“And if you don’t get in the car in the next thirty seconds I’m driving away without you,” Stan added from the driver’s seat. Eddie glared at him, but took the threat seriously. He groaned loudly, making a dramatic show of just how upset he was, and folded himself into the car and plopped onto Richie’s lap.

Immediately, Mike snickered. Eddie huffed.

“It’s not that bad,” Beverly said, from her own place on the other side of the backseat in Ben’s lap. “The drive isn’t that far.”

“Easy for you to say!” Eddie responded shrilly. “Ben isn’t…” He trailed off, unsure what words to use to describe Richie.

His best friend, sure. A total goof, a trashmouth, absolutely. Attractive, loud, hyper, loyal, funny, all true.

Also, the boy who kissed him two days ago and then pretended it didn’t happen.

Eddie wasn’t sure if he was furious, heartbroken, relieved, or a mixture of them all. He’d wanted to kiss Richie for ages, and suddenly, on their walk home from school Richie just fuckin’… plants one on him, blushes beet red, uses a Voice to say “Good on ya, mate,” which didn’t even make fucking _sense_ , and then takes off running in the opposite direction. Eddie had stood there, gaping, until Richie was an entire block away.

He wasn’t sure what he’d expected the next day at school, but it certainly wasn’t to be greeted by Richie’s Irish Cop with no mention of the day before.

So yeah, Richie was not number one on the list of people whose laps he wanted to sit in.

“I personally think it’s an honor to be in the lap of The One, The Only, Richie Trashmouth Tozier,” Richie said, pushing his glasses up his nose. Eddie turned to him without thinking, eyeroll already set in motion, but he realized quickly just how close that put their faces. He hadn’t been that close to Richie’s face since…

Well.

Eddie couldn’t see much in the dark of the car. It was almost nine PM, and the Losers were headed to the next town over for a late-night movie. Eddie could barely make out the features of Mike’s face next to him, and Ben and Bev looked more like shadows than people. But, even in the dark, he could see the pink of Richie’s cheeks. He’d never show it, but Eddie knew this had to be just as uncomfortable for Richie as it was for him.

Not that it wasn’t entirely Richie’s fault.

But Eddie was nothing if not kind and forgiving, so he tried to settle himself and get more comfortable. He leaned back until the bony part of his ass slipped off Richie’s leg and onto the miniscule amount of seat space that Richie wasn’t taking up. His legs were still thrown over Richie’s, and his back was pressed against the car door, but it was marginally better, and at least it was less likely to put Richie’s legs to sleep.

“You comfy, Eds?” Richie asked, his voice quieter than before. “I can try to-“

“No, I’m fine,” Eddie said, throwing his arm over Richie’s shoulders. His body fell naturally into the compact little space he’d made for himself, and it was much better. However, it just had him even more pressed up against Richie. He supposed he could suffer for the cause.

Richie suddenly leaned in closer to Eddie’s face; he could feel his unsteady breathing on his ear. His heart picked up speed as Richie began to whisper.

“Now’s when you’re supposed to ask if I got a stick in my pocket or if I’m just happy to see you.”

“Oh my god, Richie,” Eddie groaned, halfheartedly shoving at his chest. 

Richie laughed, and said, “by the way, it’s totally not a stick.”

“What are you two saying?” Bill asked from the passenger seat.

“Richie’s being disgusting, as usual,” Eddie said.

“Sounds about right,” Stanley said, nodding. He then said, “Hey, Mike, what were you saying earlier about this movie? It’s the one with the-“

Eddie tuned out, letting the background noise of his friends’ conversation turn to static. He could hear Richie humming along to the song playing on the radio, and the sound was soothing even in the uncomfortable situation.

“Hey, Eds?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry ‘bout the other day. The – you know,” Richie’s voice was quiet and the words sounded jumbled. “It just, like – you know.”

Under other circumstances Eddie would’ve jumped on the opportunity to mock Richie’s eloquence, but in the moment he just leaned his head on Richie’s shoulder. He felt Richie’s breath hitch. “It’s okay, Rich.”

Richie was silent for a moment, and then said, “It was… okay?”

Eddie paused. Was Richie asking if the kiss was okay? Or was he asking if Eddie was accepting his apology? Eddie found himself hoping for the first but preparing for the disappointment of the second.

“It was okay,” he whispered finally. His heart was racing, and he thought he could feel Richie’s breathing pick up, but he wasn’t sure if it was wishful thinking. He closed his eyes against the darkness of the car, the voices of his friends a calming sound in the background of his thoughts.

Eddie didn’t notice how still he and Richie were until Richie’s hand moved. He felt himself jolt a little when Richie’s hand landed on his thigh, and Richie croaked out a hushed, “ _sorry_ ,” and Eddie shook his head, not sure if he could get any words out as Richie’s hand mapped out his thigh until it found Eddie’s hand. Once it did, Richie grabbed it, and Eddie felt him huff out a breath against the side of his face once their fingers were laced.

Eddie bit his lip, unsure if he should say something. Should he do something to encourage Richie? What if Richie was sitting there, wondering if Eddie even wanted to be holding his hand, and Eddie was just sitting there in his lap like a limp doll?

Feeling an insane amount of momentary bravery (or, if things went south, what he would consider a momentary lapse in judgment), Eddie, whose head was already on Richie’s shoulder, nuzzled in closer until his nose was against Richie’s neck. He felt Richie shiver, and found himself naturally squeezing Richie’s hand, as if looking for some kind of comfort. Richie squeezed back, and Eddie let his lips touch the warm skin of Richie’s throat.

If he hadn’t been so focused on his lips, resting gently against salty skin, he would’ve noticed that Richie had a vice grip on his hand, and that his breathing had sped up even more. His brain seemed to have stopped working at some point. He had no idea what he was doing or what to do next or if Richie even _liked_ what he was doing and-

“Fuck,” Richie’s voice was so quiet that Eddie barely heard it, but it sent shivers down his spine and he pulled back just enough to be able to lean back in place an actual kiss in the same spot. “ _Fuck_.”

Surely that was a positive reaction? Richie certainly wasn’t stopping him, was still holding his hand, and even seemed to have dropped his head back to give Eddie more room. But, considering his complete lack of experience in the area, Eddie didn’t really know what to do next. He knew what he _wanted_ to do – there was a little voice in the back of his mind that had been screaming the entire time his lips had touched Richie’s skin, screaming at him to _taste_ –

So he parted his lips and, hoping that this was something people actually did, let his tongue brush Richie’s pulse point.

Richie jolted so hard that Eddie nearly fell off his lap.

“What the fuck?” Mike asked, and Richie began cackling loudly and awkwardly.

“Nothing!”

Eddie’s heart was racing almost as fast as his thoughts – had he done it wrong? Did he read Richie’s reactions wrong?

“I don’t even want to know,” Mike finally muttered, turning back to his conversation with Ben and Beverly.

With the attention off of them, Richie’s big hands found Eddie’ hips and helped him back into the position he’d been in before, but before Eddie could situate his face in Richie’s neck again he felt lips against his ear.

Eddie gasped at the feeling, gripping the fabric of his pants and closing his eyes.

“You need to stop,” Richie whispered, and Eddie almost panicked, but then he continued, “because I really don’t want our friends to see me with a boner.”

Eddie let out a breathless laugh, heartrate skyrocketing. Eddie didn’t answer, but he found Richie’s hand and laced their fingers again, and they sat quietly for the rest of the ride. When they arrived at the theater, Eddie climbed out first and Richie followed, and Eddie felt his cheeks heat up at the way he could feel Richie’s eyes on him.

The group bought their tickets and Eddie followed as they started to walk into the theater, but was stopped by Richie tugging his hand.

“Hey – you guys go on in, I’m gonna have a smoke. Me and Eds'll meet you in there,” Richie said, and the others nodded, no one questioning why Eddie needed to stay behind for Richie to have a smoke. Once they were gone, Richie pulled Eddie to the side of the building, crowding him against the wall. “What the _fuck_ was that, Eddie Spaghetti?”

Eddie blushed, eyes downcast. Richie’s hands were against the wall on either side of his head and he felt breathless watching dark curls swaying in the wind.

Finally, Eddie spoke. “I mean, you kissed me first.”

“And then I ran away!” Richie said with a short laugh. “I think it’s obvious who’s got the balls in this relationship.”

“I think that’s always been obvious,” Eddie said, grinning. “And so.. um, since you kissed me, and then I kissed you – I think that, like, makes it your turn now?”

The words were mumbled and Eddie’s cheeks were hot, but he didn’t feel embarrassed. He wasn’t sure, after all these years, that he was capable of feeling embarrassed around Richie.

“My turn?” Richie sounded clueless, and Eddie rolled his eyes and said, “your turn to kiss me, dumbass.”

“Oh,” Richie said, staring at Eddie blankly. He looked terrified at the prospect, and Eddie felt the nerves from before explode in his stomach.

“Unless you don’t want to?”

“No! I do!” Richie exclaimed, leaning closer but still keeping distance. “I just…”

He didn’t seem like he was going to finish the statement, so Eddie muttered, “I mean, I’d do it but I don’t really… like – I don’t really know what I’m doing, so.”

“You think I know what I’m doing?” Richie said incredulously. “I smashed my face against yours and then ran away. Like, literally ran. I haven’t actually ran since middle school. What the fuck.”

Eddie snorted, letting his head fall forward onto Richie’s shoulder. He sighed contentedly when Richie’s arms wrapped around his back.

“We’re not very good at this,” Eddie mumbled against Richie’s shirt.

“Uh, considering what you were doing in the car, my dick begs to differ.”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Rich,” Eddie groaned, shoving him away. Richie laughed, letting Eddie push him but then grabbing onto his hand and pulling him back in.

“Okay,” Richie muttered, still holding onto Eddie’s hand. They were pressed together from head to toe, noses brushing, both wide eyed. “Okay. I’m gonna do it.”

“Are you giving yourself a pep talk right now?” Eddie asked, the hint of a smirk on his lips. “You’ve been talking about how much game you’ve got since we were like, eight. Just fuckin –“

The end of Eddie’s sentence was cut off by Richie’s lips inexpertly pressing against his own. The pressure was too much and their noses banged, and Richie’s glasses knocked askew. They pulled back quickly, giggling.

“That was really bad,” Richie admitted, his cheeks red. “I’m gonna try again, okay?”

Eddie nodded. “Maybe use a little less force this time? Like, don’t try to break my nose with your nose.”

“Uh, excuse you, Edward. I’m doing all the heavy lifting right now and you’re being a major backseat… kisser. I’d like to see you try.”

Eddie paused, steeled his nerves, and tried. He took Richie’s cheeks in both hands and brought their faces together, tilting his own and letting their lips touch softly. At first they stood still, lips awkwardly pressed together, and then Eddie parted his lips slightly and Richie’s bottom lip slid perfectly between them. He let his hands fall from Richie’s face and dropped them to his sides, pulling back and breathing hard.

He watched as Richie, looking dazed, opened his eyes. His cheeks were more red than they’d been before but he couldn’t stop grinning.

“You are way better at that than me,” he said happily. “You definitely have to teach me your ways.”

Eddie laughed, rolling his eyes and grabbing for Richie’s hand and pulling him, knowing they’d probably missed the previews for the movie. “C’mon,” he said with a smirk, “we can sit in the back row and practice.”


End file.
